


to let you know (to let you go)

by lewis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cheating, I hope, LMAO, M/M, Mutual Pining, Swearing, There's smut, bc he's fckn oblivious, bottom!Louis, but then again it's kinda cute, happy end, he's a bit of a bitch, it's sad af, lots and lots of, love me some whining louis, maybe a, oh but louis whines in a non-sexy way too, oh my god also, okay, tagging this is like hell, well what else, you'll wanna punch him a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 11:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4390646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lewis/pseuds/lewis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're in love, but nothing really works out the way they want it to. Fate doesn't give up, though.</p><p> </p><p><em>as he walks the short distance to the lift and punches the button hard, he thinks about the last time he left this building. remembers how all he had wanted was for harry to come after him, fight for him. tell him to </em> stay, everything’s going to be alright, i promise<em>, but he didn’t then, and he doesn’t now.</em><br/><em> somehow that hurts more than anything else.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	to let you know (to let you go)

**Author's Note:**

> okay i've been writing this for over a year now (not non-stop of course :D) so excuse the fact that i didn't capitalise anything but that was what everyone did when i started writing this :)
> 
> the song is "upside down" by goldford! :)
> 
> feel free to point out grammatical errors or spelling mistakes, if you find any.
> 
> have fun reading .xx

for their ten-months anniversary, louis and blake decide to go to a place called _zizzi_ , somewhere in paddington, with nice boats nearby, to rent out for a night. it’s italian – louis’s favourite – and after a bit of a wait for someone to come around and get them a nice place to sit at, they’re led to a table set for two in the far corner.

they sit, blake eyeing the place warily. “’s a bit loud,” he comments.

louis rests his elbows on the table and folds his hands in front of his mouth. he smiles encouragingly as he shrugs his shoulders, resting his chin on his hands. “i don’t mind,” he murmurs kindly.

blake’s smile, in return, is blinding. “that’s great – as long as you’re okay, i am, too.” he grins wolfishly. “this is all about you tonight.” he winks as he says, “next time will be about me, yeah?”

louis’s heart rate picks up embarrassingly at the possibility of a _next time_. “blake,” he murmurs, puckering up for a kiss. blake grants it easily. “love you, babe.”

“love you, too.”

 

having ordered their food – louis the lasagne and blake a pizza margarita – they fall into an easy silence. louis watches blake watch him.

he’s not the prettiest, louis knows that, but he’s a wonderful person – always kind and never impatient – and louis doesn’t think he’ll want someone else any time soon.

blake’s tall – not unfairly so, but a lot taller than louis, still – with black curly hair. louis likes combing his hands through it but there’s this thin line between _hot as fuck_ and _what the fuck_ when it comes to curls, if you’re asking louis, and sometimes, blake’s just on this side of. well. _messy sort of afro_. he tells blake to grow it out a little, _just to see if it’d look any good_ , but he won’t because, _it’ll be annoying, louis_. he’s fine with it, though, because it’s still so long that it falls over blake’s eyes prettily when he sucks louis’s dick into his mouth at night, so.

his eyes are bright blue – this side of grey, sometimes, in fluorescent lighting, and it’s. _not so pretty_. but they always seem to be sparkling when they glance at louis, and it means a lot. the happy glint. louis revels in it.

blake wears bandanas a lot – like, _a lot_ – and he loves wearing rings, too. his jeans are always skinny but the holes in them were made on purpose and you can _tell,_ and louis hates it but he never mentions it to blake. the rest of his clothing is decent enough, so it’s okay. he can handle proper ugly jeans on his boyfriend. ’s not like he has to wear them himself, so. he’s allowed to bitch about it to his friends, though. just. yeah.

“god, you’re so gorgeous,” blake breathes, then, and louis’s glad – glad blake’s not actually edward cullen with the ability to read the _oh, fuck_ that rushes through louis’s head, then, and that louis himself can easily lie a “look at yourself, babe” in return because anything else would be mean. he’s not a mean person. he’s. whatever.

 

it’s all going good, going great, until that – _greek god_ appears next to blake with a wide smile on his lips. “aye, blake,” he says and his voice is as soft as his hair looks. louis hates him already. he’s _so_ unrealistically pretty. “haven’t seen you in – _decades_.”

blake rolls his eyes fondly. “zayn,” he sighs, smiling wider than at louis the first time they told each other _the three words_ , which. okay. fine. “it’s not been _that_ long…” he trails off, gazing up at the man dopily. louis nearly throws up his lasagne right then and there.

he coughs to get himself some attention, instead. “hi,” he croaks, forcing a polite smile, “you are?” he clenches his hands into fists on his thighs when zayn glances at him briefly, for less than a heartbeat, before he’s looking at blake again, saying, “who is that? got yourself a new toy, i see?”

louis wants to scream, now. yell, kick blake in the balls, and damage zayn’s stupid visage. he does neither. “i’m his boyfriend,” he challenges, glancing at blake to watch his reaction.

he looks – _indifferent_. zayn is the one to react, laughs, “yeah, yeah. sure.”

the gasp louis releases in return is rather _impressive_ , if he says so himself – shocked and loud. a bit feminine, maybe, but he’s not the _top of the bottoms_ for nothing. “who are _you_ –” he points a finger at the alien accusingly. “– to come in here and insult me like that?” his voice is sharp, and he’s in his element. he glares at blake. “and you –” his finger nearly pokes blake in the eye. louis wouldn’t mind that. “– are doing _nothing_. do you hear that?”

blake barks a laugh at that – he actually, proper dick-ish _laughs right in louis’s face_. “yeah,” he snorts, “i can hear you very well. you’re _yelling_ , actually.”

louis is furious. there’s two ways this can go now but he chooses neither. instead, he gets up, and points at the now-empty chair. “here,” he says to zayn, calmly, “take a seat, if you’d like.”

zayn _actually fucking does_ but louis is fine. he’s _so not_ furious. nu-uh. “thanks.”

blake winks at louis as though this was a fucking game. “where ya goin’ now, babe?” the smirk on his face looks disgusting. louis wants to punch him in the face now, too.

in lack of anything better to do, he flips blake off, and leaves. fucking twat.

 

he parks himself on the bench literally ten steps from the restaurant. it’s late but people are still using the bridge right next to him to cross the stupid river he’d very much like to fling himself into right now. he considers it for a second but it’s probably not deep enough to have him drown, and it’s dirty, too. he sighs pitifully.

he’s frowning down at his feet when he feels someone sit down next to him. he glances up quickly, to find a boy around his age smiling down at him. “hi?” says louis.

the boy’s smile widens. “hi,” he drawls. his voice is surprisingly deep, and his eyes startlingly bright in the mix of green and white of the starbucks sign that’s illuminating his – rather handsome, louis must say – face. “are you sad?” his smile is too wide for a question of this kind.

“no,” he says slowly, “’m louis.”

the boy’s smile, in return, is _blinding_. his lips are a pretty shade of red and his eyes a pretty shade of green. “and i’m harry,” he says, though louis never wanted know. this is not. he’s never going to see him again. “but, louis –” he glances upward dreamily as he says it. it’s this side of cute blake could never manage in a thousand years – mad at him or not, it’s _a fact_. “– you _look_ sad. are you?”

louis shrugs. harry watches. “yeah, but.” he sighs. “no biggie, yeah?” he glances at harry quickly, feels the corners of his mouth drop down from where he’d been forcing them to form a smile. he feels small beneath harry’s steady gaze, somehow.

“it’s a big deal, though. always is.” he worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a second. “what would make you happy now, louis?” he’s nice about it, about the way he asks – soft and hesitating, a tad bit. not pushy, louis thinks. he likes that. ’s nice, feeling like you have a choice.

he chooses to reward harry with an honest answer. “a date with a nice boy that will mind if some _stupid dickhead_ will come and stop by _and have me leaving in two minutes_.” by the end of it, he’s nearly screaming, before he cuts himself off. he runs both his hands down his face, bites at one of his fingernails when he reaches his mouth. “just – we. i. _why_.”

harry nods like he understands. he’s stupid. stupid and pretty. louis ignores it. “yeah. i see.” he’s ridiculous. he hums thoughtfully and louis smiles, and _then_ he understands that that was harry’s plan all along – to make him smile. his tummy flutters, and he smiles wider. “no, but seriously. would you like to go out on a date with me, then?” he sounds so confident, unafraid, like whatever louis’ll say next won’t make him question anything in his life.

louis, on the other hand, is not so sure. “i don’t know.” he eyes harry warily – he’s got good looks but maybe a gun, too, who knows. “why would you, though? go out with me? i’m a stranger.”

harry smirks like he was waiting for it. “it’s my job to make other people happy,” he’s quick to explain. he crosses his legs and twists his upper body to look at louis properly.

louis raises a lone brow. “your job?”

harry tilts his head to the side, glances at a pedestrian briefly. “yah, well.” his cheeks pink a little. he looks remarkable, honestly, with the big eyes and big mouth and big mess of hair. “not really my _job_ , but. i just like it. when people are happy. makes me happy too.” he looks so – _proud_ , louis just kind of. yeah. does the half-moon-eyes smile, because harry’s _just so lovely_. jesus.

“so you live off other people’s happiness?” he inquires before he can say something _really_ embarrassing, like _are you wearing contacts because eyes can’t look that pretty, can they_ or _are your lips actually as soft as they look_ , maybe. he pretends he didn’t think a quick _you can fuck me any way you want, harry_.

harry considers it for a second. “basically.”

they both laugh at it – louis high and harry’s a touch dirtier. he’s this weird mixture of achingly cute and devastatingly hot, and louis doesn’t get how it works, but that’s alright.

harry, though, stands very suddenly – high and tall, like the leaning tower of pisa as he bends a little to glance at louis. he clasps his hands behind his back before he speaks. “will you go out with me now or what?”

louis considers it, takes notice of every detail harry has to him. it’s – it has his chest aching a little with guilt and a bit of longing, too. because he’s blake but. nicer. cleaner. _better_.

he’s a lot taller than blake, louis can tell. he stands quickly to find out, and regrets it a second later because _he is_ and he’s the sort of tall louis _loves_ ; his mouth would fit right beneath harry’s jaw, where he could bite purple bruises into, and harry’s mouth would fit right against his temple, and that’s just. his heart picks up into overdrive at what they could be, what they could look like.

his jeans are skinnier, too, and the holes at the knees look like harry had to suck a lot of dick before the fabric finally ripped. his boots look expensive and his crewneck as soft as his ivory skin. it says _OBSESSION_ , and he thinks that harry could become just that for him.

his hair is tied back with a messy type of a bandana – a proper headscarf, matching the one around his neck. louis loves scarfs but blake says they look gay, which. wow. o- _kay_.

louis starts when harry shuffles suddenly, hiding a quiet giggle behind the back of his hand. it seems like he didn’t speak for hours as he finally breathes, “yeah, ’course.”

harry’s smile is a bit startling – comes so quick, so bright that he must have been trying to hold back for ages. maybe louis was checking him out for ages. maybe louis blushes. maybe harry’s just insanely fit. and maybe he should listen to harry because his lips are moving but there’s no sound except for the ringing in louis’s ears.

he breathes sharply. “what.”

harry falters for a second, there. it looks nice, the wide eyes and the _o_ of his mouth that louis would love to sink his fingers into. “i asked you if you came from _zizzi_ , because then i guess you won’t wanna go back in there, to that someone you left?”

louis stares for a second because _how does he know_ and then another one because _am i a slut if i go back with a boy that found me ten minutes ago or am i cool as fuck_. he opens his mouth to say something but harry’s smirk shuts him up. he raises his eyebrows, instead.

harry looks ridiculous as he murmurs around the smirk, “d’you wanna make ’em jealous, yeah?” he thumbs at the corner of his mouth until his lips shape a proper smile – dimples digging deep. he’s this type of guy that goes from overly attractive to proper cupcake in a nanosecond, and somewhere in the mix, louis feels his stomach clench in envy. he ignores it.

and he says _yeah_ , because harry is the kind of guy to make someone jealous with. “yeah, i’d quite like that, to be honest.” he can’t stand harry’s gaze for a second, there, because he’s not used to so much attention on him when he’s revealing a part of himself he doesn’t quite like sharing with anyone, really. it’s all a bit embarrassing.

harry reaches a hand out in return, the wide span of his fingers waiting for louis to lace his own into. “louis, you look beautiful tonight,” he says, like it’s not fake. like it’s not to make blake jealous. like he means it. louis wishes. wishes harry wished, too, so maybe their wish could come true (what).

belatedly, he waves harry off. he hopes the heat in his cheeks isn’t actually showing on his skin as he says, “not until we’re within earshot, you moron.” there’s no heat behind it but a lot spreading through his body as he watches harry’s mouth quirk into a grin and his eye drop into a quick, cheeky wink. he ignores the twitch in his pants. that’s not what harry’s here for. actually, well. he doesn’t _know_ , really, what harry’s here for, but he’s sure sex is not on harry’s list.

 _really_ belatedly, he places his palm in harry’s bigger one. it looks strange, the contrast they make – big but pale against tiny but tanned – but startlingly _lovely_ , too. he inhales sharply. “let’s – _ah_ – go, then, yeah?” he glances up from their hands to gaze at harry unsteadily. a blush creeps up his neck again, and his stomach churns uncomfortably, but the warmth of harry’s hand crawls up his arm, from where it spreads everywhere, like he’s set his insides on fire.

harry pulls him close to his chest. “look at me like you think i’m pretty, and we’ll be fine,” he murmurs lowly.

louis goes tense in his arms. his cheeks feel hot as he thinks of what to say – he could make harry a compliment, tell him that he doesn’t have to try because that’s what he’s been doing the past twenty minutes, anyway, but he could also go with a harsh _not sure if i can manage, mate_ but all he actually does manage is a forced laugh, and a “don’t be ridiculous, harry.” it could mean both, after all. he’s good at it – a pro at leaving people clueless rather than going out of his comfort zone.

harry laughs, though – loud and a bit like he doesn’t care that it sounds like he’s dying – and it’s all fine. “come on,” he says, tugging louis with him.

“don’t embarrass me, please,” louis whispers as he falls into step with him. “i don’t even know you, okay. oh, my god. oh, god. no. what am i doing here. who are you. i don’t even know your last name, or if –”

“styles.”

“what.”

“my last name.” harry gazes at him as though he was sure louis was a bit thick. “it’s styles.” he bobs his head in a silent _get it, louis, do you get it now_.

it takes him a second – maybe he is a bit slow, after all – but then he’s shrieking, “see! that’s what i meant – now i’m going to be seen with a porn star!” he makes a show of flailing his limbs in the air with dramatically wide eyes.

harry waves him off. “you’re so weird,” he says. he’s laughing at louis’s shocked face, and louis has a hard time not laughing with him because he just knows that this just was so _louis_. “’m not a fuckin’ porn star, louis. i mean, like. i like having sex, like, a lot, but, like. i’d not wanna fuck someone in front of other people. i think.”

by the time he’s done speaking, the _o_ of louis’s mouth is just as wide as his eyes. “jesus, harry.” he can’t hold back anymore, laughs right in harry’s face, until he’s being pulled into the restaurant by fingers that are quick to lace themselves in between his own.

harry pulls him into his side, rests an arm around his shoulders. two of his fingers inch beneath the neck of louis’s thin sweater like it’s casual. but then again, maybe it is – maybe he does this a lot. he focuses on the soft swipe of harry’s fingertips until they start pressing into the dip of his collarbone. his breath is hot against louis’s neck as he moves closer to him. “hey, hey, louis. you alright?”

he starts when he realises he’d spaced out for a bit, shivers as the tips of harry’s fingers slide up beneath his jaw, and back down underneath his shirt. “’m alright, yeah. sorry, just. yeah.” he smiles up at harry. “sorry.”

harry beams back. “come on, then.” he squeezes louis closer, starting off in the general direction of where he knows blake is sitting with zayn right now. “is it alright here?” he murmurs when they stop in the centre of the room.

louis glances up at him quickly. “yeah, sure. ’s perfect, harry.” he bites his lip hard to keep from smiling too obscenely widely at the way harry glances down briefly and smiles as though it was the best thing anyone’s ever told him. he’s quite lovely, that one.

harry removes louis’s jacket quickly – like a proper gentleman – and louis wonders just how practised he’s at this. once they sit, facing each other, harry reaches a hand out to drum his fingers against the table, asks, quietly, “are you gonna tell me who they are? the person you left?” he rests his chin on his fist on the table. “so i know who to smirk at whenever i get those lovely cheekbones of you to flush.”

louis hides his face behind his hands, laughs into his palms quietly. “you’re the worst,” he exclaims, peaking at harry through his fingers, before he lowers them down onto the table. “but – _ah_ – he’s.” he coughs quietly into his fist, avoids harry’s eyes. “he’s –”

harry stretches his arm out further, until the tips of his fingers caress the web between louis’s thumb and forefinger. “hey, louis. you don’t have to, like. if you don’t wanna?” he worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, seems to forget louis can _see_ him staring, for a second, there. “we can leave now,” he offers softly, “get up and find something else – if that’s what you wanna.”

“nah, it’s fine. thank you.” he shakes his head slightly. “’s just, i. well, don’t look now, because i’m pretty sure i just saw him glance at me – us – but. he’s at the table across the one next to us. in the corner, by the window.” he peaks at blake from the corner of his eye, tries hard to focus on the picture but it begins to sting after a second or two. he blinks rapidly. “try looking in a couple minutes,” he says.

harry hums, nods his head. his smile is bright, and louis doesn’t know why he’d be smiling so wide, but he lets the warmth of it spread through him nevertheless, until his eyes are darting down to where harry is still mindlessly tracing patterns on his skin, cheeks hot and collar itching.

a waiter comes by, then, hands them each a menu. louis tries hard not to think anything of the way harry chooses to open it single-handedly, instead of just taking his fingers away from louis’s skin.

he stares hard at the menu, breathes in deep, to feel his tummy full of lasagna. “’m not gonna take anything to eat,” he says softly, hooking his thumb around harry’s pointer. harry hums in response – whether to his reaction to harry’s caresses or his statement, he doesn’t know. it leaves him self-conscious. “had, like, this great lasagna earlier. you should try it, maybe?” he amends quickly, biting the inside of his cheek.

harry glances up at him. he smiles big, says, “yeah?” he adds a thumb to the mess of fingers on the table, scratches the heel of louis’s palm gently. can’t keep the grin off his face, _knows_ that it affects louis. “dunno, though. think ’m a bit too nervous to eat.”

“too nervous,” louis repeats, rolls his eyes so hard, it hurts a bit. he says, quietly, “’ _course_.” maybe he’d like that, though – if harry’s stomach tingled just as pleasantly as his does whenever harry’s gaze lingers _that bit_ longer.

harry’s teeth dig into his bottom lip, then, and louis kind of sort of just – _loses his breath_. he flushes all the way up to the tips of his ears, feels himself stare but can’t stop – won’t, not until harry catches him looking. he feels his heartbeat jump into overdrive at the idea of having harry stare at him with mutual attraction.

harry’s fingers clench around his hand suddenly. “ _the greek god_?” he’s shrieking quietly, leaning close so that louis has a chance to catch it. he stays close when he continues, even as the volume of his voice increases gently when he says, “why’d you dumb that – _model thing_?”

louis stares. “what.” he licks his lips, watches harry track the movement. flushes all the way down to his cock because it turns him on to possibly, maybe turn harry on, maybe, a bit, someday. just. “d’you mean –”

harry’s pointer presses into his skin to cut him off. it works just fine, and louis ignores the tingling that spreads from there. “i mean, like. he’s so – is he human?”

harry looks ridiculous – his eyes are wide and his eyebrows crease his brow with how far he’s raising them. louis would like to say he looks stupid, but that would be the jealousy speaking. he bites his lip to keep himself from snapping a mean _why don’t you go sit with them, instead_ , tries his hardest to make it sound like he’s amused when he says, “nah, that’s not blake.”

“you –” he glances at blake and zayn again, subtle even to louis. “thank god,” he breathes, before he starts laughing quietly. “what table is it, then? thought i was looking at the right one.”

louis ignores the _thank god_ in favour of turning his hand in harry’s grasp. harry doesn’t falter for a second, moves to trace the heel of louis’s palm immediately. he glances down briefly, though, smiles to himself, before looking back up. his cheeks pink a little, and louis nearly loses it. “no, no. it’s that table. it’s just – blake’s the ugly one,” he says, instead.

a smile is tugging at the corners of his mouth at the face harry makes – he struggles to keep the ridiculous smirk off his lips, and when louis’s gaze flickers down to eye harry’s mouth briefly, his smug grin breaks out in full force. “you’re kidding, right,” he says lowly.

“no?” he feels a bit ridiculous. “why?”

harry is silent, then, studies louis’s face intensely – his eyes flicker from his eyes to his mouth, to his hair, back to his mouth, down to his chest, up to his hair, to his mouth, down to their joined hands, and back to his mouth, before they settle back on his eyes. louis’s head is spinning with it. “are you blind, louis?” he asks then.

louis laughs nervously. “why? what do you mean?” he feels something like anticipation low in his gut. “i don’t understand.”

harry taps each one of his fingertips as he says, “you’re so wonderful to look at, and he’s – he’s a joke, louis. he looks. dunno. _mean_?” it’s a bit of a multitask – to focus on the feel of his skin and listen at the same time – but harry’s words have his hand curling into a fist immediately. he unclenches it quickly, taps his own fingers against harry’s palm for him to continue. he doesn’t even blink before he’s walking them up and down the inside of louis’s arm, doesn’t even smirk this time.

“thanks, i guess?” he squeaks. harry nods, blinks slowly. “but it’s not – i’m not – he’s not –” he sighs quietly, laughs at how ridiculous he is. when he dares looking at harry, the laughter lines around his eyes might as well be spelling the letters _F O N D O F Y O U_ but he won’t allow himself to think like that. “he may be ugly but –”

“that’s it, i’m sure,” harry cuts in. “he can’t be too lovely if you’re sitting here with me right now, can he.” it’s not a question and he looks entirely too smug.

louis protests nevertheless, “that’s not true. i – we’ve been together for ten months now. this is our anniversary, actually, and –”

harry breathes sharply.

“what?”

“sorry, sorry,” he murmurs quietly, “go on.”

louis waves him off. “don’t be sorry. i know it makes it all a bit worse, that it’s our anniversary.” he smiles at harry’s beaming smile. it’s all a bit ridiculous. “but, as i was saying, he’s actually great. he’s a good boyfriend – or that’s what he’s been up until now.”

harry nods. “i’m sure you two will be fine again, if he’s as nice as you say he is.” he pauses there, hums quietly. “and if you end up breaking up with him, that’s fine, too.” he parts his lips, inhales through his mouth slowly. it looks obscene in a way louis has never seen on anyone else before. “i don’t know, really, because i don’t know _him_ , obviously, but. i – i have a feeling you deserve better than him.”

louis wants to say _me too_ but that would be a lie – because he doesn’t deserve any better than blake, knows that there’s always two to a relationship, and all their _up and down_ ’s have been louis’s fault just as much as blake’s. blake can be a bit mean sometimes, but louis himself is a sarcastic shit most of the time, so there’s not much to complain about. besides, he loves him, and it’s not. that does count as something, and he’s not going to give up that easily, only because there’s a blake 2.0 sitting in front of him. he’s going to enjoy harry’s company for a bit, maybe ask for his number later so they can meet again at some point because he seems lovely, but that’s it. he’s not going to break up with blake _just like that_.

he’s sort of saved from answering when a waitress comes by to give them their drinks. he chooses to ignore the jealousy gathering low in his gut when she decides to look at harry only as she asks if they’d like anything to eat. and he pretends he doesn’t lose his breath for a second when harry smiles at her the same charming way he did a bit more than half an hour ago when he asked louis _out on a date_. he tries hard to stay calm, but accidentally spits out a harsh _no, thank you_ when harry repeats the waitress’s question, aims it at him. harry’s mouth parts on a sharp breath, there, and louis kind of. _settles_. gives him a sick thrill to know harry knows. _knows what_ , exactly, he has no idea, but _he’s louis_. nothing makes sense, really, although the longing he feels for someone like harry is startlingly clear.

when the waitress leaves, harry moves to take louis’s hand into his own. only then does louis realise he never stopped tracing patterns on louis’s skin with his other hand. it has his heart migrating into his throat but other than that he’s, like, he’s feeling content. it’s good.

 

louis learns that harry lives _a ten minute walk from here, actually_ , and that he has a dog that he likes to bring to the kindergarten he works at because _the kids adore him so much, and he loves it too, all the attention_ , and louis laughs and tells him that he once brought his friend niall’s dog to sports day and how everyone loved his dog too. harry asks what school he teaches at and louis tells him that he does at the north london grammar school. “a friend of mine works there as well,” harry says, and as it turns out, they have liam payne as their first mutual friend.

he learns that harry’s twenty-three and dropped out of school when he was sixteen because he knew he wasn’t going to study anyway, and instead find a job he loves. he seems intelligent enough, though, so louis tells him that he’s sure that o-level doesn’t say anything about a person’s intelligence and harry tells him that he wouldn’t mind, anyway, because what he does now is worth so much more than completing stupid studies for a job he wouldn’t enjoy as much as being around kids, and louis nods along with all of it. harry tell him the money is shit but the kids and the massive amount of free time he has afterward make up for it entirely, and louis can see it all – the way he holds the little children tight and tells them stories in his honey voice.

he’d like to find someone to marry and have kids with sometime soon, if possible, and live somewhere close to but not quite as busy as london. louis tells him he won’t have a problem finding someone, will he, because he’s _so nice and pretty, too_ , and harry blushes, giggles quietly, and it looks so good that louis has to reach out to touch, and he does, having harry go silent beneath his palms as he grabs for his hands. it looks beautiful, the blush, rising high onto his cheeks. his smile, too – shy in an achingly beautiful way.

 

louis, in return, tells him about blake and his family, and that he loves and misses them dearly. he tells him a bit about the kids at school and that he hates grading papers but makes the students write novel-like essays every week nonetheless. he and blake live in a rather nice flat in wembley, and while he hates wembley because it’s become such a shabby part of the city, he still loves how quickly he can reach the city of westminster and be in the centre of it all. louis and blake both pay for the rent, so that’s why they can afford a better home than most of their friends. harry asks him how old he is and he tells him that he’s twenty-five but turning twenty-six in three months. harry smiles big and whispers to him that he’ll have to find out what louis likes until then, so that he can buy him a present. he promises he’ll wrap it himself, even though he’s not good at it, but he’ll practice for louis. louis blushes hard throughout harry’s gentle rambling, and waves him off when he’s done. he still gets a kiss on his knuckles from harry, before they start talking about louis’s dream to have kids too, in the future, and a husband – just like harry. in a hesitant whisper he lets harry know that he’d had it all planned out already – this kind of future, with blake – even if it’s a bit early, _he was so sure!_ but now he doesn’t know anymore, isn’t so sure of blake. harry holds his hand through it all, and tells him he’ll be fine.

and that he’ll be.

 

blake and zayn leave around this time, then, and louis doesn’t want to know where they’re headed off to, so he pretends he doesn’t notice the loud screech of the chair as zayn pushes it across the floor to get up. he tries so hard to focus on harry, that he stops listening to him talk about how his dog _forced_ him to get fit, and instead just stares. only when harry’s mouth stops moving does he notices he’s been staring at it for a bit now, maybe, he doesn’t know, but zayn and blake are gone and harry’s gaze is still as intense as before, and maybe not all of it was an act. then again, he doesn’t know if any of it was, or maybe harry noticed him reacting to his touches so violently that he now doesn’t want to drop louis just like that, too nice to hurt him. it has his gut clenching – brief but harsh – and his breathing ragged.

harry exhales a soft laugh, ducks his head so that a couple loose locks drop on his forehead. his dimples are in full force but so is the blush high on his cheeks. “this is kind of sort of embarrassing,” he says, looking at their hands briefly. his gaze is all over louis’s face again, then, and it has louis squeezing his fingers tight around harry’s hand and his heart picking up into overdrive again. “i mean – it’s not embarrassing that you are, but that i always blurt things out like that,” he continues, his smile so blinding that louis has to look away for a second.

louis leans in close. “it’s not embarrassing that i’m what?” he asks softly, confused.

harry leans in too, worries his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks louis right square in the eyes. “that you’re by far the prettiest human being i have ever laid my eyes on,” he breathes – voice soft and the words falling from his lips a tad too slow.

it surprises a laugh out of louis, and he leans back as to not accidentally spit on harry in his haste to recover because it’s not. it’s not something you tell someone you met a couple hours ago. it’s not something louis would ever, in a billion years, admit this easily. his cheeks ache by the time he dares looking at harry again, and this and harry’s smile only make him smile harder. “i’m pretty sure that’s zayn, harry,” he murmurs sheepishly.

harry pulls a face as though screaming at louis that he’s nuts. it has his blush breaking out all over again. “you really must be blind, louis.” he shakes his head, gazes at louis again, before he’s suddenly barking a laugh again. “i can’t believe i got to meet someone as wonderful as you.”

louis pulls his hand away to itch at his neck, his skin on fire. he shakes his head slowly as he places his hand back on harry’s. “you’re ridiculous,” he tells him, “but you’re lucky you’re cute as fuck, else i’d probably have left a couple hours ago.”

harry’s nose wrinkles adorably, and louis notices he’s still leaning over the table a bit, so he moves in as well, beckoning harry closer with a crooked finger. harry’s lips part on a sharp breath as louis moves in to press a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth.

“thanks so much for making me feel better, harry,” he whispers as he leans back in his seat.

harry’s tongue is poking out the corner of his mouth, right where louis kissed. they both giggle quietly when harry quickly shuts his lips tight upon noticing louis’s pointed look. “sorry,” he murmurs quietly, hiding his face behind his hands briefly. he’s so adorable, louis wants to scream. “but,” he coughs quietly, taking a sip of his water, before his hands are all over louis’s again, “you made my night a lot better too, louis.” he nods at him seriously. “’m glad blake was a dick t’night. wouldn’t have met you if it weren’t for him.”

louis only smiles now because if he’d open his mouth, he’d probably say something very stupid and embarrassing. a smile will do.

 

louis pays for their drinks and then they’re by the bench they first met at. louis’s kind of glad he didn’t go home straight away, but he kind of wishes he’d done just that because now he’s got a boy looking at him that he’d very much like to kiss but he’s also got one at home that he has an actual life and future with.

he rubs the sleeve of his sweater over his eyes. “don’t wanna go back to blake tonight,” he admits, yawning. “will probably go find a hotel or something,” he murmurs.

harry’s got his hands in the pockets of his skinnies. he smiles down at louis. “there’s a hotel a three minute walk from here, but it’s rather expensive,” he says, pointing at the large buildings a bit further down the way. “and there’s a tidy flat a ten minute walk from here that will cost you nothing for the night,” he offers brightly. “i have a day bed in my bedroom on which i can sleep tonight, or you, maybe, if you don’t like having my smell all around you.”

louis grins big and raises onto his tiptoes without really meaning to. when harry holds him by the waist to steady him, he looks so sure of himself, louis just has to say, “thanks for the offer, but i’ll take the _novotel_.”

he aims for harry’s smile to drop or disappointment to flash in his eyes so clearly anyone could see it, but all he gets is a murmured, “okay, i’ll walk you there.”

louis drops to his heels and pushes at harry’s chest. “aren’t you upset i don’t wanna come with you?” he yells but he’s laughing until harry hauls him in by the small of his back so that they’re pressed close and louis’s breath is knocked out of him.

“i am, because you’re wonderful, but i’m not going to force you to come home with me.” his voice is low but his smile brighter than ever as he presses his chin to his chest to look at louis. “obviously,” he adds.

“but what if i wanna?”

“then you’re free to.” he lets go of louis, giggling in louis’s hair as he wraps an arm around his shoulders instead as they start walking.

louis feels a bit high and harry looks it as well, but maybe they’re both just happier than they’ve been in a while. the idea has his stomach tingling pleasantly.

 

“here we are,” harry murmurs, closing the door behind louis.

from what louis can tell, it’s massive – an insanely large open area that combines hall, living space, and kitchen. the walls are a pale beige that could easily be mistaken for white in a different lighting, and the big windows along the entirety of the wall behind the sofa let louis assume that it’s rather bright in here at daytime.

louis starts when harry breaks out in a run suddenly, sprinting to the sofa to fold a blanket quickly. “sorry, forgot i didn’t put it away this morning. sorry it’s so messy.”

it surprises a laugh out of louis, that harry would think that it’s messy. there’s an half empty water bottle on the kitchen counter and the pillows across the sofa look a bit like someone slept on them the other night, but apart from that, it’s by far the nicest flat louis has ever seen in real life. “it’s – beautiful, harry,” he breathes, looking up at the ceiling.

“chester square,” harry laughs breathlessly, grabbing a can of soda from the fridge. “by far the prettiest area in this part of london, in my opinion, but – painfully expensive, too.” he takes a sip of his coke. “you want anything?” he asks, “i’ve got coke, water, beer, and – milk.” he laughs quietly, looking at louis with wide eyes.

“water, please,” says louis absentmindedly, leaning against the isle in the kitchen. “how come you can afford such a big place?” he winces. “i mean – sorry if this is personal stuff or something. i didn’t mean to pry.”

harry hands him a glass of water, the condensation that had started to drip down his hand catching against louis’s fingers as he takes it. “it’s fine,” he laughs quietly, “my step dad, he pays for it.” his nose scrunches up for a second. “i wouldn’t be able to afford it, but he’s got quite a lot of money, so.” he raises his eyebrows, then his shoulders in a quick shrug. “why not.”

“sick.” he takes a sip of from his glass. “it’s seriously so nice. wouldn’t mind living here,” he admits quietly, tracing a hand over the white worktop.

“wouldn’t mind you living here with me.” louis looks up to watch harry bark a laugh, to which he shoves his shoulders gently.

“cheeky,” he remarks, squeezing harry’s shoulder. he runs it down his arm, before he shoves it in the pocket of his own skinnies, ignoring the way harry’s muscles tense beneath his palm.

harry grins wide, but stays silent. louis watches him take a look at his watch, before he’s grabbing for harry’s wrist to look at it himself. “nearly ten,” harry tells him before he can look at it properly.

he hums, thumbing harry’s wristbone once. “wanna show me your bedroom?” he asks through a yawn, rubbing at his eyes after. “sorry.”

when he looks at harry, he’s watching with a small, secret smile. the intensity has his heart migrating to his throat and all the blood in his body rushing to his face. he smiles back sheepishly, watching harry track the motion with a lick to his own lips. it’s probably a second later when he nods his head with a bright _yeah, of course_ , but louis feels like they stared at each other for ages. it’s something he rarely shares with blake, and it has him twisting his wrist so that his hand fits into harry’s before he knows what he’s doing.

harry leads him to his bedroom, and it’s all – he should’ve seen it coming, but he didn’t so he kind of. forgets to breathe, and it’s fucking embarrassing because this is not the house of a rich man but merely of a boy that just simply knows where to put what to make it all feel like – like _home_. “did you have an architect furnish this?”

harry’s brow furrows. “no?” he lets go of louis’s hand to place it on his shoulder instead as he moves to kick his boots off. “why?” a smile is lingering at the corners of his mouth, like maybe he knows and maybe he just wants to hear it, likes receiving compliments as much as louis does. louis could compliment him all night, if he wanted – he’s sure he wouldn’t run out of sweet things to tell harry in a long time because he’s just so – _lovely_.

“’s just.” he shrugs, bashful when there’s no need to be. “it’s amazing. i didn’t expe – well, i don’t know _what_ i expected, but not this. ’m surprised.” he’s pressing a kiss to harry’s cheek before he knows what’s happening. “i like it.”

harry’s laugh is soft, and when louis looks up at him, his cheeks are the tiniest bit blotchy. it’s ridiculously adorable, and he barely catches harry’s sheepish, “’m glad, louis.”

louis leans back with a hand on the wall, marvels at how tan his skin looks compared to the pastel blue of the wall. the bedspread is of the same colour, and for a second there, he imagines how he’d look all spread out on it, skin on display for harry to stare at. it’s a little embarrassing and a lot hot, and he has to look away from the bed to forget about it.

“bed or sofa?” harry’s asking, then, moving to the sofa on the other side of the room. he bends down convert it into a bed, glancing at louis over his shoulder.

“uh.” he stares between the two. “i wouldn’t mind either. i guess. you choose.”

harry smiles big. “the bed’s probably more comfortable, so you can take it.” he straightens, turning to look at louis properly. “d’you need anything? a shirt, pants?”

louis parts his lips on a sharp breath and stares at him because _how can someone be so nice to someone they only just met_ , stares until harry tilts head and smiles wide. he coughs quietly, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. “sorry.” he runs a hand down the side of his face. “a shirt, maybe?” he asks, undoing the first buttons of his navy button down.

louis ends up in a band tee that must be big even on harry, because it slips past louis’s shoulders in a way so ridiculous that he has to hide his blush in the crook of his elbow when harry stops in his tracks to smile at him fondly. “don’t be embarrassed,” he chastises softly, “it’s borderline cute, so don’t worry.”

louis only blushes harder, and it’s all a bit ridiculous, but he’ll be fine.

 

harry grabs one of the two blankets from his bed, and kisses him goodnight right square on the mouth – quick but so gentle that louis’s head is spinning. he’s climbed onto the couch before louis realises what happened. “goodnight, louis,” he slurring, waiting until louis’s clumsily climbed into bed before he’s turning the lights off.

“thank you, harry,” louis whispers, inhaling deeply.

it smells a bit like detergent and a lot like harry, and louis – he’ll be fine.

 

—

 

louis wakes before harry does, and tiptoes into the bathroom attached to the bedroom. he empties his bladder, combs his hair, and quickly washes his face with water. by the time he’s rooted through harry’s cabinets in search of an unused toothbrush, harry stumbles into the bathroom. “hi,” he breathes, brushing his hair out of his eyes and holding it there. his shirt rides up his left side, louis’s eyes breaking the eye contact to eye the fern inked into his skin there.

“nice tattoo,” he comments, “d’you have more? apart from your arms, i saw those.” he smiles around the toothbrush.

harry scratches the centre of his chest. “heaps.” he winks at him with a grin so bright, louis has to look away.

“spare me the details,” he scoffs, laughing as he spits in the sink. when he comes up to rinse the toothbrush, harry moves to the toilet.

“sorry,” he murmurs. he has the decency to turn his back to louis before taking his dick out, but his low rumble of relief is hard to ignore.

and to make matters worse, louis just _has_ to say, “quite an impressive stack of lube you have in there, h,” pressing his heel against the cabinet beneath the sink.

harry laughs loudly, adjusting himself in his pants. “nights do get quite lonely, you must know.”

 _oh,_ louis thinks. “oh.”

harry grins wide. “ah – just put it in there,” he says nodding at the cabinet next to the mirror when louis shakes his toothbrush in his face.

it has louis’s heart skipping a beat because he could’ve told him to throw it away just as well. he hopes that, maybe, harry wouldn’t mind another sleepover. he hopes.

he freezes, however, when he opens the cabinet to five other toothbrushes, each one with a letter on it. “just put a _lou_ on it or something,” harry’s saying next to him, and it’s. louis has this strong hope that those can’t be lovers, else he’d try to hide it or at least have the decency to be a little ashamed. or maybe it’s the plan – to act like nothing’s wrong, when really, it’s all people he hooks up with every now and again.

 

harry offers to make breakfast, but louis tells him he’s got some grocery shopping to do but asks for his number. harry hands him his phone immediately, sighing a quiet _louis tomlinson_ when he’s got his phone back. it’s criminal how adorable he is, and louis is so endeared, he has to leave before he does something really stupid.

on his way to the door harry hugs him and presses another quick kiss to his lips – he lingers for a bit longer this time but it’s still nothing more than a soft peck. it does nothing to reduce the urge to blabber out embarrassing things to him, though.

louis leaves before he can do anything of that kind.

 

—

 

he comes home to a crying blake telling him that he’s sorry and that he doesn’t know what was up with him and that he was so worried because louis wouldn’t pick up his phone, and when they go to plug it in and it comes back to life, it says he’s missed six text messages and three calls, and when he looks blake in the eyes, he knows he’s telling the truth.

they’re fine.

 

—

 

_Are you and your boyfriend alright? xx_

 

he blinks at his phone, forcing himself not to smile too obscenely wide.

 

_yeah i guess. again tysm harry yesterday was fun :) x_

 

_I’m glad, and I had fun too, so it wasn’t too bad, hahah. :) Hey, Louis, are you free this weekend? Liam and I wanna go out, and so I wondered if you wanna come too? xx_

 

he’s surprised harry would want to see him again so soon, but a second later he already wonders how harry has the patience to use proper grammar, and then he accidentally types out a _text me the details :)) xx_ , and then it’s this second of _why the fuck not_ and then he _accidentally_ hits ‘send,’ and it’s settled.

 

he’s going to see harry again.

 

—

 

harry invites him over a lot, and he invites harry over a lot, and sometimes they go out with niall and liam and nick – a friend of harry – and a lot of other friends, and it’s amazing.

harry also convinces louis to go walk the dog – _cappuccino_ because it’s a brown münsterländer – with him. not because he’s too fat – _jesus, lou, no way, look at yourself, you’re perfect_  – but because it’s healthy and harry feels less lonely wandering the streets of london. he doesn’t mention the fact that the dog’s supposed to keep him the company it can, and instead revels in the fact that harry chose him to walk cappuccino with.

harry also doesn’t stop kissing him hello and goodbye, so it’s not louis’s fault he rises on his toes before harry’s even moved in to do that. it’s just. it’s never more than a peck, and while louis doesn’t get it, harry seems to find it important – it’s always the first and last thing they do.

he doesn’t know if harry kisses liam, too, or niall now that louis’s invited him to join them a couple of times, or if he kisses nick on the mouth or just. he doesn’t know because usually, he’s the last to arrive or they all come to his house together or maybe he just never notices. it’s nothing he _likes_ to think about, so he doesn’t, really. he just hopes harry doesn’t – even if that’s a bit ridiculous, given that he has a boyfriend of his own. but everything’s like that with harry – unexplainable in that way that has louis frustrated, because he _doesn’t get it_ , but it’s harry, and he’s so much more important than that, so louis doesn’t really mind.

 

—

 

weeks turn into months, and before they know it, it’s louis’s birthday.

_Happy, happy birthday, Lou! Can’t wait for you to open your present!!! :) I’ll call you later, and we’ll see each other soon, yeah? Love you, mate. x_

 

it’s a bit embarrassing that the _love you_ has him blushing and grinning at his screen like a maniac, but it’s harry. he’s not – in love, he just. has grown very fond of this boy that is more ridiculous than anyone louis has ever met in his life before but still manages to make him blush so frequently that it can’t be healthy.

 

it’s later that day that blake has to leave because the hospital needs him, and louis curses himself for the 462728th time that he has a boyfriend that works as a doctor.

“’m so sorry, louis,” blake says, puckering up for a kiss.

louis pecks his lips quickly, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “i’ll just – dunno. read or something.”

 

halfway through the third chapter of a book that must be lottie’s about a girl and the main character in the book she’s reading being able to communicate with each other, there’s a knock on his door. he puts the book facedown on the couch, before he gets up to open the door.

he cries out happily when he sees niall, liam, and harry standing in his doorway. “what are you guys doing here?” he asks breathlessly, hugging niall tight.

“celebrating your birthday, you twat,” niall laughs, smacking a wet kiss against his cheek that louis wipes away in faux disgust. he’s got a bottle of wine and a present that looks a lot like a book in his hand.

“blake texted us saying you were alone and that we should stop by,” liam says as he wraps his arms around louis’s middle. “happy birthday, louis.” he holds up a massive paper bag in his louis’s face, grinning adorably. “you excited?”

louis rolls his eyes, and shoves at his shoulder gently. “no, of course not.” he sticks his tongue out at liam. “go ahead and get comfortable on the couch.” he presses a kiss to his cheek.

“yeah, yeah, we’ll leave you two alone for a bit.”

he wants to protest but then he’s yelling “ _leela!”_ and crouching down to pet niall’s dog, before cappuccino is nudging him in the side so hard that he topples over, both dogs sniffing at him.

“cappuccino,” harry’s screeching, “ _quit_ it! leela, you too.” he looks downright horrified at the fact that they would misbehave that badly, that louis loses his breath and his heart does this little jump that literally translates to _fucking fond of you_. but, hands down, he’s by far the cutest person he’s ever had the honour of knowing so it’s hard to deal with, honestly. “it’s his birthday!”

“so come down here and kiss me, then,” louis breathes before he can stop himself. his eyes widen, and it must look pathetic, the way he’s lying on the floor asking to be kissed, but harry’s already kneeling down and straddling his thighs.

with a hand next to louis’s head and one cupping his waist gently, he breathes, “happy birthday, loulou.”

he expects harry to kiss him like all the other times – quick but gentle – but the way he parts his lips against his mouth has louis gasping. he feels harry’s tongue slide against his, but his mouth is gone long before he realises what happened.

“happy birthday,” he repeats, giggling quietly.

 

turns out, niall got him _the fault in our stars_ , and louis laughs, says, “isn’t that the book literally every single teenager is talking about at the moment?” and niall just tells him that they really should watch the movie together some time soon. the wine he got him must be some fucking expensive shit, according to liam, and they decide to get drunk on it.

 

liam got him a leather bag that looks so expensive that louis accidentally squeals out an _oh, my god_ , so loud that niall presses his palms against his ears with a groan of protest. “’s for school,” liam explains, “because yours is so small, and i hope you like –”

“of fucking course i like it liam! i love it, je _sus_.”

liam actually fucking blushes. he loves his friends so much.

 

harry licks his lips as he hands louis an envelope. “i hope you’ll like ’em as much as you say you do.” he grins smugly, and louis breath catches because _no way_.

“no way,” he says, ripping the envelope open hastily. “ _no way_ ,” he repeats, staring at the tickets in awe.

“wha’sit?” niall asks, trying to peer at them over louis’s shoulder.

“ _the 1975_ tickets,” he breathes absentmindedly, throwing his arms around harry’s neck to bite at his shoulder. “you fucker, you know how much i love them,” he screams into his neck.

harry hauls him in and makes him sit on his lap. louis feels him kiss the top of his head. “i’m glad you’re happy about ’em.”

“h nearly flipped when it was announced that they’re going on tour,” liam laughs, and louis has to supress yet another scream.

“yeah,” niall buds in, “called me to ask if i thought it was a good idea. turns out, dickhead had already purchased them at that point.”

“ _neil!_ ” he hears the smile in harry’s voice, feels the laughter vibrate deep in his chest. feels his pulse jump and his arms tighten around him when louis presses an open mouthed kiss against his neck.

he accidentally breathes an _i love you so much_ into the soft skin beneath harry’s earth, and not-so-accidentally bites at harry’s earlobe, just to listen to the way his

breath hitches. “i love you all so much,” he declares loudly, lifting his head from the crook of harry’s neck and wiping at the spit cooling on his neck, right where he kissed.

 

niall leaves first. he gets a kiss on the cheek from louis, and one on each from harry.

liam gets a kiss on the mouth from harry, and – out of jealousy – one on the corner of his mouth from louis. he pretends he doesn’t notice liam’s confused gaze, and just smiles wide instead.

 

harry leaves around midnight. when they’re by the front door, louis leans against it, watching as harry puts his boots on. he presses his mouth shut tight but the words claw at his lips so hard, he says, “so, you do that with everyone? with all your friends?”

harry looks up from where he’s zipping his boot up. he’s not wearing a headscarf today, so louis bends to brush the hair out of his eyes for him. “do what?”

“kiss. on the mouth, i mean.”

harry straightens to his full height, the heels of his boots making him that bit taller. it’s unfair. “you mean like this –?” he cups louis’s jaw, thumbs at his bottom lip. kisses him quick, their lips parting with a quiet _smack_ a second later. it’s a sound that should be disgusting, but it has louis’s breath hitching and his dick twitching. he sighs quietly.

harry keeps his thumb at the corner of louis’s bottom lip, even as louis says, “yeah, like that.”

a smirk drags across harry’s wet lips slowly. “why? are you jealous?”

louis stares at his dimple to avoid his eyes. “just.” he closes his eyes, breathes deep. “just tell me, harry.”

“yeah, i do,” he admits quietly.

louis makes a disgruntled sound, opening his eyes to watch harry crowd up against him, wedge his knee between louis’s thighs.

he traces his thumb along louis’s lips again. “but this –” he starts, before kissing him again.

it’s a little surprising and a lot hot when he licks where the pad of his finger just touched, and louis opens up to him before he realises it. he thinks about shutting his mouth again because he’s so easy, but then he realises that, yeah, it’s only been three months now but he’s just that – a sure thing when it comes to harry. feels like it won’t ever change, like he’ll be eighty and think of how easily he went along with anything that harry had offered to him.

harry kisses – proper kisses – so thoroughly that louis has to reach up to encircle his wrists where his hands are cupping louis’s cheeks as to not slip down the floor, or become one with the door, maybe. he gasps when he feels harry fuck his tongue in slowly, has to pull back to catch his breath when harry presses up against him.

he watches him swallow. “– not so much,” he finishes, and louis needs a moment, but then he understands, has to kiss him again, and does just that, raising on his tiptoes to make it easier for harry.

he tastes of the bit of wine he had earlier and salt and spit and – _harry_ , and louis feels like he might explode, like maybe he’s going to combust, just like that, slowly turn to ashes beneath harry’s palms where they’re running up and down his sides, pressing into the dip of his waist.

he can’t help but whine when his phone buzzes three times in quick succession, and he has to pull back because it can only be one person – and he doesn’t want that person to come home to find their boyfriend snogging harry.

“just a second,” he murmurs, humming in approval when harry’s fingers dip beneath his shirt, wander up his back skin on skin, pull him closer.

 

_i’ll be home soon x_

_missed you heaps i’m still so sorry i had to leave hope you had fun with the boys x_

_gonna fuck you so good louis x_

 

his stomach churns at the idea of letting blake fuck him when the taste of harry still lingers in every corner of his mouth.

he shows harry the messages, tries to hide the last one but watches as harry removes his thumb despite his protests. he snorts, then, looks pained as he glances up at louis. “are you gonna let it happen?” his voice so low, louis barely catches it.

he squints at him. “no.” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “or, i dunno. maybe. i just – i don’t know.”

harry’s lips are at his ear suddenly, and he goes tense as he murmurs, “just – in case you end up with his dick inside you, i want you to know that i –” he takes a deep breath, exhales it in a snicker. “– i could fuck you so much better, lou. i’d fuck you so good, and maybe he’s not bad at it either, but here’s it: i’d fuck you better than he ever could, and then i’d hold you tight after, and i’d be so grateful to have you. i’d – i’d never let you go. ’m not sure that’s what he’ll do, though.”

 

—

 

if blake finds him in bed later, both already half hard for different reasons, and fucks louis quick and hard, then that’s okay. and if louis is thinking about harry while blake grunts his name in his ear, that’s just fine. and if blake curls up on his side of the bed after, leaving louis to hug a pillow, that’s his problem. harry doesn’t have to know.

 

—

 

the thing is, he doesn’t get it. doesn’t get how harry can always be so – _painfully_ honest, when he shouldn’t be. if he were to voice his thoughts, louis’s sure people would think he’s gone nuts. and maybe he has, but really, it’s just that he’s never had to deal with this kind of thing – with wanting someone to just _shut up_ because – even though everyone’s always begging for honesty – it’s not always the key, the solution to a problem.

it’s not that he wants harry to lie, just. he’d appreciate it if harry wouldn’t always just say every fucking thing that’s on his mind because louis doesn’t want to know that he fancies him, and he doesn’t want to know that harry thinks he’s pretty or that he likes him so much that it hurts to see him with blake.

it’s the kind of stuff you don’t tell someone just like that, looking them right square in the eye. but harry does because harry is just that – so confident and sure of himself, he would never not tell all of the truth, because he’s just so at ease with himself that it doesn’t bother him, even if someone were to lash out on him.

maybe louis’d like to be a little more like him. but, he thinks that, even if he tried, he’s not got the heart. it’s a bit like harry has this heart of a giant, and louis wonders if, sometimes, he has as much trouble breathing as louis does when he says those things, because he’s just so – lovely, his heart must be _too_ _big_. or something.

just, louis wishes harry would feel half of the ache he does. it’s unfair and selfish, but he’d like harry to understand that he can’t just go ahead and whisper a quiet _i could love you so much better, if you’d let me_ in his ear as they’re all gathered on the couch in louis’s apartment, blake literally on the other side of louis.

 

he never tells harry any of it, though, because. because he’s not harry, and it isn’t as easy for him, so he just lets it happen.

 

(one time harry comes barging in carrying the enormous stuffed heart he won at the christmas fair louis couldn’t make it to, proud and his smile so bright it could lit the massive christmas tree downtown, and louis literally scrambles for the polaroid camera his mum got him for his birthday to take a picture of him. they both wait for it to develop in silence, and harry watches quietly as louis scribbles a _harry carrying the actual size of his heart. xx (26/12/’17)_ on the bottom of it. he kisses him breathless right after, and if harry sneaks a hand down louis’s pants, no one has to know.)

 

—

 

when blake’s phone vibrates on the couch and louis glances at it to make sure it’s not an emergency, it’s a text message from a _zayn malik_.

and when louis does a double take, his heart feels like it’s literally dropping to the pit of his stomach, and on its way there, it pushes all of louis’s dinner up his oesophagus.

 

_can’t stop thinking of it, now that you’ve mentioned it. i’m sure it’d look good on you. we can try it next time you come to visit me ;)_

 

by the time blake is done showering, louis’s already packed a duffel full of clothes. he’s out the door by the time blake’s picked up on what’s happening, and louis ignores the _louis, where are you going?_ in favour of slamming the front door as loudly as he can manage.

 

by the time he’s at harry’s, he’s done crying out of disappointment. he’s just so angry, he could punch ~~someone~~ blake right square in the face.

he greets harry with a bruising kiss, and when harry pulls back to asks what’s wrong, louis just kisses him harder.

and when harry murmurs a harsh _oh this bastard is gonna regret this so much_ against his mouth, louis only cries harder, because – even if he’s never going to let it slip and anyone know – he loves harry so much.

 

louis is sure his body is begging harry to bruise him up, claim him as his, but harry ignores it, fingers him firm but so slow, louis is going mad with it. he’s literally so hard he’s seeing stars, and somewhere in their constellations, he’s also seeing a universe in which harry’s his.

“harry, harry,” he’s whispering, “c’mon, har _der_.” he cants his hips up, gets harry’s finger deeper. feels so full, his breath leaves his lungs in a gasp every time harry fucks his fingers in. “harry, i want you.” he swallows. “want you to fuck me.”

harry looks up at that, smiles wide despite louis’s tears. the movement of his hand doesn’t falter even as he kisses louis quiet, says, “not tonight, lou.”

louis tears his mouth away, squeezes his eyes shut against the sting of rejection. “why? d’you not want me? thought you’d fuck me so well.” it’s harsh, and he doesn’t mean any of it, but harry doesn’t even bat an eyelash at him. it’s maddening, to know that harry knows him so well now, but that he doesn’t know how to get under harry’s skin yet. maybe he’ll never know.

he only kisses him again, and it’s frustrating. “i want you so badly every second of every day, louis, you have no idea,” he’s saying, and the “but i won’t take advantage of you ever, and this is actually too much already” is lost in the rush of blood to louis’s head as he starts coming. it goes on for a ridiculous amount of time, and when he’s done, he goes limp in harry’s grip, lets himself be kissed whichever way harry pleases.

as harry starts tugging at himself in earnest, louis accidentally murmurs, “still want you to fuck me.”

and as harry starts coming all over louis’s groin, he murmurs, “not – _ah, fuck_ – not tonight, love,” and louis knows everything he doesn’t say. it’s a nice change.

 

—

 

a day later, on the 29th, he ignores all of blake’s text and simply sends a _i’ll be staying at a friend’s house, see you next year_. he lets harry hold him as he cries, and he feels like a dick as he refuses to let harry know what happened, so he snogs him breathless to make up for it.

 

on the 30th he finally tells harry what happened. it takes a lot of coaxing from harry, and louis accidentally puts lots of tears and a little bit of yelling in the mix, but harry’s focus is so heavy, it keeps him grounded in a way he’s never experienced before.

as harry curls around his back at night and kisses his neck softly, louis feels a bit like harry’s silently saying _welcome home_ , but it’s. he won’t let himself think like that. he falls asleep to harry tracing his own name over his stomach over and over. he doesn’t think about what it could mean.

 

on the 31st, they hang out with liam and niall a bit, and nick and some of his friends are there, too, but around ten harry’s pressing up against louis and mouthing hotly at his neck, and when louis turns to ask him if he’d like to leave, harry’s already pulling him toward the exit. they’re both laughing breathlessly as they stumble out onto the street.

a little bit later, harry’s sliding into louis with a quiet _i love you so much_ , and as he starts to fuck him in earnest he keeps murmuring it in louis’s ear between grunts and gasps of pleasure, and it’s such a pretty sound, louis whispers it back, quiet _i love you, too, so much, harry_ ’s just to make sure harry sounds better saying them. and maybe he also says them because he means them.

an embarrassingly short amount of time later, he’s coming so hard, he scrambles up the bed hastily in search of breath. when he comes to, harry’s still using him to chase his own orgasm.

he moves up onto his elbow to kiss him, lets harry fuck his tongue into his mouth the same space he’s snapping his dick into louis. he bites down on it gently, releases it to breathe, “come for me, haz.”

harry pulls back to look him in the eyes, breathes, “haz?” and then his entire faces scrunches up with the force of his orgasm. louis sinks his fingers into the _o_ of his mouth the way he wanted when they first met, presses them flat against harry’s tongue, and squeezes around his cock until harry’s sucking at his fingers and pulling out of him slowly. he flops down next to him, giggling breathlessly, until they’re both just smiling at each other lazily.

 

when harry gets up to fetch something to clean them both up with, louis ignores liam’s faux angry _where are you dickssss we miss you !!_ and niall’s _hope you two are not havin sex right now ! happy new year , you twats_ in favour of checking what time it is. _12:09 AM._

“you literally fucked me into next year,” he laughs as harry starts wiping him down.

it surprises a laugh out of harry, too, and his eyes seem to be literally twinkling as he gazes up at louis. “happy new year, loulou.”

“happy new year, haz.” he wraps his arms around harry’s neck, pulls him on top of him.

harry stares down at him, and louis can feel the heat in his cheek as harry presses it against his own. “i really like haz,” he whispers in louis’s ear before he’s lifting himself a little to nuzzle their noses together in an eskimo kiss.

louis only kisses him.

 

—

 

louis is so, so fucked. he can’t stop crying, and the fact that he can’t tell harry why, exactly, makes all of it a lot worse.

harry keeps nagging him about it, but louis refuses to tell him. he lets himself be kissed, though, and that is more of an apology than he could manage with words.

 

here’s it: a break up is massive. it’s not something you just do; it’s so much stress, involves so much more than just the parting of two lovers. they share a flat and everything in it is both blake’s and louis’s, and it’s all not so easy.

so dealing with a break up, moving out of the flat he’s been calling his home for so long now, _and_ harry’s nagging that he’s so, so in love with louis — it’s all too much.

so instead of dealing with any of that, he does the only thing that’s logical to him: pack up a couple of his things and go to his colleague and friend eleanor for the rest of the break, for some time alone.

eleanor won’t asks questions, and that’s — exactly what he needs.

 

“so you’re just — you let me have you, lou, and now — now you’ll just leave? just like that?” asks harry as louis zips up his winter coat. he grabs him by the chin and forces him to look into his sad, sad eyes. “ _god_ , louis,” he whispers, “you can’t just — i love you so much.”

and there it is again: this pressure to be everything harry needs. and it’s ridiculous, probably, because he’s been nothing but himself and harry still fell for him, but it’s just. he can’t help it, has to take that step. says, “bye harry.”

harry wipes at his eyes furiously, but it’s no use because the tears just keep streaming down his cheeks, even as he closes his eyes tight against them. when he opens them again, louis can barely recognise him. “okay,” harry says, though, and opens the door for him.

“alright,” louis croaks. “i’m sorry.”

“me too.”

louis is out the door, and he says, “i’m sorry.” he says it again, and then again. “honestly.”

harry closes the door slowly. “lou, _loulou_ ,” he whispers, and he’s never looked this lost before, “just know i’ll be here when you make it home.”

 

—

 

he’s not. he’s fucking not.

louis spent the last week of the break crying his heart out on eleanor’s shoulder and she held him tight. her body too petite for louis to pretend it was harry, but then again, if he had been with him then, there wouldn’t have been this many tears in the first place. 

he had to move back in his flat when the winter break was officially over, though. he ignored all his friend’s texts for a whole two weeks, only spoke to blake about insignificancies, like who’d go grocery shopping or the weather.

 

it was easy, for a while — they just pretended nothing had ever happened. and then louis realised that that was shit, too, because blake was _just a bro_ ; shoved at his shoulder like a mate and called him _dude_ whenever they were having a good moment. he wasn’t a lover anymore, had stopped being one for louis a long time ago. 

 

he realised that exactly four weeks after he’d last seen harry, and before he knew it, he was texting him _you can have me, harry. just say the word and i’m yours. i’m done with blake. x_

he received a call that same night. _harry_ , his phone said, but he just. couldn’t. didn’t. _should’ve_.

so he let him talk to the answering machine, at two in the morning, voice croaky. “hey louis,” he bleated, “i just — i got your message and like, i just. i wanted to call earlier but i just. lou, i couldn’t.” he drew in a shaky breath. “i — i can’t. i fucking can’t do it anymore, i —” 

the answering machine cut off, there, and louis waited for a whole hour in bed for him to call again, but he never did.

 

it’s february 1st, though, and it’s five in the evening when he finally makes it to harry’s flat. it’s eerily silent in the lift to his level, and when louis’s in front of his apartment, he feels like he’s going to be sick all over the floor, because. 

because what if harry’s going to reject him? 

“i’ll be here when you make it home,” louis whispers shakily, and knocks. 

 _i’ll be here when you make it hom_ e, harry had said, but he’s not. he’s fucking not.

instead, louis is met by a tall brunette with eyes the colour of honey and the body of a god. she’s gorgeous in a way only harry could manage to pick up, and the edge of the bruise peeking out from her low cut shirt has tears stinging in his eyes before the girl can even her chirp her, “hi, you.”

louis doesn’t even try to conceal his hurt — he’s well past being embarrassed; he’s nothing to lose now. “is.” he swallows hard. “is harry here? i need to—”

the girl’s face is screwed up in concern. “yeah, yeah. come in.”

 _if only she knew_ , louis thinks bitterly as he lets himself into the familiar setting. he’s crying hard now, can barely breathe, but the blurry figure bursting into the room has him losing his breath altogether.

“louis,” cries harry, dashing towards him. “louis, fuck, what’re you doing here?”

louis scrubs at his eyes so hard, they’re sore to the touch in a second. “harry,” he mouths silently.

he can see clearly now, sees the bags under harry’s eyes, so maybe it’s just louis’s attachment to harry defining his perception, but he still thinks he’s never seen anyone nearly as beautiful as harry looks and is right there, clutching at louis’s elbows to keep him balanced as they both cry.

“louisa,” harry starts calmly, hiccups. “lou, can you take cappuccino for a walk, please?”

louis looks up, startled. he’s so confused for a second, and then his chest feels constricted at the realisation that harry was calling _her_ by his nickname.

“sure, if that’s — yeah,” she says quickly, calling the münsterländer’s name softly, until he runs straight toward louis, wagging his tail against his thighs excitedly.

louis only cries harder as he brushes the dog off gently, ignoring his little soft whine as he noses at his hands. harry releases a sob suddenly, and it’s all so, so ridiculous. ridiculous but twice as heart breaking, louis decides.

 

“what are you doing here, louis?” harry repeats the second his girl and dog are out the door.

they’re stood face to face, and harry does nothing to hide his feelings — holds his trembling hands by his sides and his wobbling bottom lip between his teeth. he’s so, so beautiful.

“i — i came to, like.” he has nothing to lose but he’s never been brave, so. if he were, they wouldn’t be doing this right now. “i just bloody — i love you? so fucking much?”

harry looks angry. sounds it, too, as he throws his hands in the air and cries, “god, louis, fucking shit. and now? you love me. _and now_? what’s it gonna change?”

louis flinches back. this is not at all going the way he wanted it to, but then again, that kind of became clear the second the door was opened for him. it does nothing to stop his heavy breathing. “harry, you don’t understand.”

“bloody shit, louis, what are you saying? do you even realise — _fuck._ ” he scrubs his hands down his face and they come away wet.

he squats down suddenly, holding his face in his hands as he breathes into them slowly. his back is tense and louis can’t stop trembling.

“i just,” harry starts mumbling, before he lifts his head to look louis right square in the eyes. “out of all the people i could’ve fallen for, i had to — just bloody _had to_ — fall for the one with a mind so obnoxiously fickle, it’s not even funny. fucking unbearable, actually.”

louis says, “i’m sorry,” and then, “i’m. i may be, like. never sure of anything, i know that, but i’m so, so — just so sure of you. now,” he adds after a second because harry doesn’t look convinced at all.

he stands suddenly, right in louis’s space. “you’re so ridiculous,” he whispers brokenly, before he’s pressing his trembling lips together.

louis can’t help it, says, “ _i’ll be here when you make it home_.”

he’s watching harry so closely, he knows the exact second harry realises what he’s talking about. a new wave of tears washes over his cheeks, but he doesn’t say anything.

“now you’re here with a new girl,” louis continues bitterly, pushing his shoulders back. “you fucked somebody else when you said you’d always be there for me.”

he needs to stop, he knows it, can see it in the way harry’s hands clench by his sides. but self-control has never been one of his strengths, and he simply can’t make himself stop, because he’s here, and he’s. hurting harry. hurting harry for all the hurt he’s been experiencing for the past half year.

“does she know about all the things you’ve said to me? everything you did just so that i would be with you?” he can’t believe his own words, but he keeps yelling, “god, harry, you bastard, i can’t believe —”

“shut up, louis, fucking shut up!” harry’s yelling suddenly, pressing his hands against his ears. “i know what i said, but shit happens. you should know that best.” he’s calm within a second, and it’s scary. “what do you want me to do now?”

louis is so, _so_ shamefully selfish. “leave her. for me.”

harry barks a laugh so bitter, louis reels back in shame. “leave her? for you? like you left blake for me?” he’s shaking his head slowly. his face screams disappointment. “i begged you to leave him for _months_ , louis, do you even realise what that means? do you even get how many nights i wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms for real, and then you —” he cuts off, there, draws in a shaky breath as he eyes louis’s shoes for a long moment. “and then you fucking come in my house and use me to comfort you, make me believe we were finally gonna be a thing.” his focus is scary now and the way he bites his lip would usually have louis going hot with arousal but now he’s just ashamed. “you made me believe i’d finally get to call you mine, and then you left.” he laughs sharply, bites, “so, no, hate to break it to you, but now that i’ve started to move on since you never called anymore, i’m not going to leave her. not for you. not for anyone.”

“i thought you love me,” louis whines, can’t help it, even after every word harry’s just thrown his way. because _he was so sure_.

harry nods slowly. “that’s true, lou, i did. i —” his eyes widen in shock the moment louis’s heart stops beating for a moment, continuing at a pace so fast he can feel it hammering against his ribcage. “do,” harry corrects slowly, his eyes as wide as the _o_ his lips shape.

it’s louis’s turn to nod slowly. he swallows hard, and nods again. “alright. you did. you don’t, now. that’s — okay.” he can’t help but smile, for a second. bitter. “i hope that one day you’ll find me and remember what i once meant to you.”

he turns and opens the front door, stepping through the threshold like so many times before. he can’t stop shaking, but he’ll be fine. harry told him so a hundred times before, in all kinds of situations, so what’s different about this one? louis is going to be fine.

“louis, wait.”

he doesn’t turn to look back at harry as he pulls the door closed behind him. “happy birthday, haz. have a good life.”

 

as he walks the short distance to the lift and punches the button hard, he thinks about the last time he left this building. remembers how all he had wanted was for harry to come after him, fight for him. tell him to stay, that _everything’s going to be alright, i promise_ , but he didn’t then, and he doesn’t now.

somehow that hurts more than anything else.

 

—

 

by the time blake makes it home that night, louis has managed to keep his eyes dry for over half an hour.

and flesh-toned eyeliner is a blessing, really, because when blake hugs him hello, he doesn’t notice that anything’s off. “hey, babe.”

 

they settle down on the couch, and louis changes his mind about blake; maybe he’s not so bad. for louis, anyway—he doesn’t take notice of most things, or maybe he doesn’t want to, and he doesn’t ask questions. he never pulls louis out of his comfort zone, and even if that’s not the best in their case, louis can live with it. they work just fine now, don’t they?

“hey, lou,” murmurs blake, nudging his chin against louis’s temple before he presses a kiss there. “i need to ask you something. you can say no, i won’t — i won’t be mad at you,” he promises softly.

louis’s tense, though. “okay,” he agrees nonetheless.

“today at work, i got a — i got a job offer in a hospital up north,” he says uncertainly.

louis leans back in his seat to look blake in the eyes. “up north?” he asks carefully.

blake coughs nervously. “up in liverpool,” he murmurs slowly. “i know that’s really far from here, but the money is proper good?”

he’s worrying at his bottom lip but louis can only stare.

“we could start over, together,” he continues uncertainly. “we could leave the past here and move on.”

that sounds very nice, actually.

he knows about everything they’ll have to deal with other than finding a new home, but. they’re going to make it work. _together_.

“okay,” he says finally.

“okay?”

“okay.”

blake presses a kiss to his mouth for the first time in weeks, and they’re gonna make it work.

 

—

 

saying goodbye to all his friends and colleagues involves a ridiculous amount of tears, given that it’s _just_ a four-hour drive from london. they’ll still be in the country, just a bit further up.

he doesn’t tell harry, of course, because they haven’t talked to each other since that time louis wanted nothing more than for harry to wrap him in his arms and kiss him breathless until they were both old and gray. it’s weird, he thinks, that they were lovers, in one way or another, and now they can’t even be friends.

louis figures someone will tell harry, anyways, so that’s alright. he doubts harry cares anymore, though.

 

they find a beautiful flat in the centre of liverpool, can afford a better home now thanks to blake’s higher salary and the fact that living in liverpool is much more affordable, anyways.

louis’s new school seems great, too, so that’s good. most of his colleagues are a bit weird but he figures they’ll get to know and be less reserved to each other soon enough.

blake seems happy enough with everything, so that’s what really counts: that they can be happy together now, except. louis isn’t.

he spends all the time he used to spend with ~~harry~~ his friends at home because, after two months of trying his hardest to get people to like him, he’s still not found a single friend. the only person who’s friendly is _too_ friendly — because he keeps trying to get louis to agree to go on a date with him, although louis has made it _very_ clear that he’s taken.

so he’s home alone a lot, because visiting his family frequently is still not an option — they may live closer to doncaster now, but it’s still a rough two-hour drive.

and everyone who knows louis knows how badly he handles being alone, especially when it’s only been two months since he’s left the city he’d lived in for over five years, the place he called _home_ for so long. the home he shared with all his friends, and for a while there, with the one person louis wishes to be with right now.

and isn’t that madness? that if he hadn’t been such a fool to think that harry was a sure thing; someone as blindingly wonderful as harry, who could have anyone in whole wide world because he’s everything everyone’s looking for — gorgeous face and a heart the size of the usa, made of gold. and yet he was in love with someone as ordinary as louis with his heart of stone, and louis was so, so blind to how extraordinary their bond was.

two months ago, louis would’ve sworn he’d never talk to harry again rather than being _just friends_. what a stupid thing to think. because now it’s two months later and he’d do anything for a _hello_ , anything to know he hasn’t lost him forever. but he still hasn’t called — everyone else calls at least once every week, to check up on louis, and louis guesses they secretly know that louis knows that it was a shit decision to move up here — and louis is too much of a pussy to do it.

so he’s left crying into the pillow because he’s — he’s not happy at all, is the thing, and he remembers his mum once telling him to never be with anyone in fear of ending up alone, but. here he is.

 

blake finds him still crying, and when he asks what’s wrong, louis accidentally admits that he wants to go back to london.

“aw, babe,” blake murmurs, holding him tight. “that’s — i’m afraid it’s not that easy, louis.”

louis hiccups. “i know, blake, but. i just hate this place.” he wipes at his eyes. “and i know i couldn’t afford a nice place on my own, because i don’t make that much money, but…” he falters, realises with a start what he’s just revealed.

blake is frowning deeply. “on your own?” he asks quietly, and louis wants to punch himself in the face multiple times.

“i — i.” he scrambles up the bed, desperately trying not to upset blake any more. “blake, i mean, like. i know how much you love this place, i just thought you’d — i could move back but you could stay.” he wipes a hand down the side of his face. “i just want you to be happy, and if you’re happy here, i don’t want you to leave.”

blake blinks slowly. “okay,” he says, “i understand. we’ll find a way to work it out, i promise.”

 

and they have so many times before, haven’t they? _they’re going to be fine_.

 

—

 

and like so many times before, they don’t.

it’s july, and their moving to liverpool still seems like the shittiest idea ever. to louis, anyways; blake has never been happier, he claims, but louis doesn’t know whether he truly means or just says it in hopes of manipulating louis into thinking it too.

either way, louis uses his summer break to visit all of his friends. they’ve got a bit more money now, so louis uses half of it up, instead of saving it for when they’re old like blake wants them to — literally translates, that means that he plans on staying in london for seven weeks while blake stays in liverpool to work. it’s probably a bit radical, but then again louis’s never been anything but.

 

so when he knocks at niall’s door on sunday — because blake wouldn’t let him leave the day before, begged him to _stay one more night, louis, please_ — they hug for what feels like forever, and if they part with watery eyes, that’s alright. “dude, i miss you every day,” niall says, and louis sobs.

“fuck, niall,” he wails, “you have no idea how much i miss you all.”

 

they settle on niall’s couch because it’s only eleven and niall isn’t ready to get dressed yet, let alone leave the house. it’s alright, because niall’s apartment smells like — _niall_ and that translates to _home_ just as well as his hugs.

and louis hasn’t had the chance to talk to anyone like this in _months_ — niall is not a good listener on a normal day but here, with louis, he devotes all his attention to listening to what louis’s weeping out into the pillow he’s hugging against his chest, and he asks all the questions that get louis to cry harder, but it’s so good. because here, in the comfort of the apartment, there’s nothing he has to hide and nothing he has to be sorry for.

“so do the others know you’re here?” niall asks as they both glance at the clock on the wall and realise it’s been three hours already. “’m sure they’d love to see you again.”

louis hasn’t properly smiled in months, but he’s positively beaming now. “not yet. was a surprise,” he explains softly.

“that it was!” niall barks, but then he’s suddenly serious, and somehow louis knows what he’s going to say next before he actually does, “and harry? are you gonna talk to him?” he looks about as sad as louis feels.

“i—” he breathes in sharply. “niall, you can pretend i never left, but there’s one thing you guys all need to do for me.” he hugs the pillow tighter. “never, not once, mention harry. just — i know that sounds crazy and shit, and like. but i can’t?”

tears are sliding down his cheeks again, sudden and hot.

“alright,” niall says. “i don’t even know a harry? were you talking about _prince_ harry?”

and it’s way too soon for a joke, but louis is alright.

 

—

 

over the next week, harry’s name just — slips out of their mouths, like, all the time. louis knows they’re not doing it on purpose but it stings all the same, because he knows that whenever they say “i’m at ha — _a_ friend’s house later,” they’re talking about harry. and, god, that sucks so bad: nothing changed but louis’s life — they’re all the same, just missing a little part but they can live, whereas louis lost them all at once, and he couldn’t live. can’t breathe still, at times, even though he knows he’ll have them for another six weeks, but it — hurts.

they don’t actually _talk about_ him, just happen to mention him every once in a while. say things to each other like _he’s okay_ when they think louis can’t hear, but he’s never sure if harry ever was anything but, since louis left. doubts it, because he has someone to distract him.

and louis is still so disgustingly, unbearably jealous of that stupid girl. he thought it’d fade a little, at first, but it’s seven months later and he still feels the burn in his chest like the second he first saw her.

it’s constant, a reminder of harry at all times, like it’s become part of him. he remembers the first time that thought crossed his mind, how it had all seemed to be going good then, how he’d believed harry being part of him forever actually meant harry physically and emotionally being with him at all times, for the rest of their lives.

it never did, and louis still struggles with the thought that it’s all his fault. but he fucked up, and although time never healed his wounds, he hopes it healed harry’s.

doesn’t _hope_ , really. what he hopes is that harry’s wounds are still as fresh as his because he _misses_ louis. but he knows that that’s just as selfish as everything else he’s ever thought when it came to harry, so he tells himself that all he wants is for harry to be happy. that’s not true, either, because he only wants harry to be happy _with him_ , but that’s. details, _details_.

“he was there for me and then he took himself back,” louis says one of these nights, sloshing his drink around in the tall glass. he can barely talk, is sure they’re not even properly listening to his slurred words. “and all he left was _pain_. all i can feel is pain.”

his brow furrows and he slams his glass down on the table of the booth harshly when liam says, just as drunk, “louis, harry is actually —” because ‘ _harry is_ ’ will lead to actually talking about harry, and he honestly didn’t want his words to lead to that.

“no,” he says. “i just wanted you to know,” he mumbles. “the saying is so true.” and then he belts, “ _’cause when a heart breaks, it don’t break even”_ at the top of the lungs and they all join in like the words don’t mean anything to louis.

 

—

 

and then, one night, he’s there. with them. no warning for louis other than the twenty steps from the entrance to the booth in the very back.

louis is, like every other time, the last to arrive, and they’re all sitting huddled together. he knows the back of liam’s head like the back of own his hand, but so does he know the head of the person next to liam, except. he’s not supposed to be here, is the thing.

harry is not supposed to be here, with them, when everyone knew louis was coming. it was a deal, and they — ignored it? didn’t care? forgot about it? because they don’t see a problem; harry’s fine and louis needs to re-learn how it is to feel _fine_?

either way he feels sick with nerves as he walks up to the booth, smiles at them all but harry because he can’t make himself look at him and see all the changes he didn’t get to experience with him, just because — just because louis was a fucking dick, and harry had had enough.

so, here he is, sitting at a booth across from harry and he literally can’t _look_ at him. he feels so ashamed, he has to stare at his own hands as niall and nick crack jokes about the ratty shirt he’s wearing. “didn’t come here to pull,” he says quietly, but they’re not listening anymore.

he can literally _feel_ harry staring, could from the first time they met — like he had a sixth sense for harry’s attention on him. got kinda difficult at times, because harry’s attention seemed to be devoted to him at literally all times, whenever they were in the same room, so. it becomes obvious just how much the presence of harry’s focus was lacking as he now feels it burn into the side of his face so much, his fingers twitch against the table.

 

it goes on like that for a while, louis getting roped into discussing liam’s new hairstyle when all he can think about is the way harry’s hair has grown down to his shoulders, like maybe he hasn’t got it cut since louis’s left. he wishes he could look at him like everything was okay, peachy even, that he could look and all he would see is the harry that loves him, the harry that stops everything and everyone just to catch a glimpse of louis.

harry doesn’t say a word the whole evening, and louis doesn’t know whether the others don’t notice or simply don’t say anything for their benefit. it’s kind of okay, though, because maybe harry’s not happy, either. it’s a ridiculous thought to have, because of course it’s not like he thought harry wouldn’t care, but then again he kind of expected him to be harry — talk to him, start a conversation that would lead to them being okay, of sorts. harry, though, he _knows_ how much of a coward louis is and that he would never dare to take the first step, so he figures harry doesn’t want to chat with him. fair enough, he decides, but it stings nevertheless.

 

nick is off grinding on a pale boy, while andy and liam are chatting up girls by the bar. niall gets up to go god knows where, and before louis can make up an excuse as to why he’d much rather not be alone with harry, niall’s out of sight.

his pulse kicks up into overdrive, skin prickling. he itches at his collar absentmindedly, heat splattering across his cheeks as he realises how obvious he’s being.

when harry speaks, louis feels all the blood in his face drop, before it returns full-force. “louis,” is all he says, but it’s got louis breaking out in a sweat.

he hums non-committedly, but his chest feels like he’s under water, deep down where the pressure’s high, and he can’t fucking breathe, because. he hasn’t had the luck of listening to his voice in over half a year, would’ve never forgot the sound of it, but it’s. different, yet the same. maybe it’s of the same depth but maybe it’s heavier with sadness. and maybe it’s the kind of hoarse louis is used to but maybe it’s more bitter now, and louis aches with it.

“god, louis, jesus christ, just —” he exhales sharply. “just look at me already.” his voice is the same kind of desperate it used to be when he’d be telling louis to leave blake for him because all he wanted was _louislouislouis_.

louis brings a fist to his mouth, bites at the knuckles because he has trouble swallowing the lump in his throat. “i ca _n’t_ ,” he whisper-yells, tears springing to his eyes.

harry reaches a hand out to grab louis’s forearm on the table, but when louis flinches back accidentally, so does he. “ _you need to_ ,” he begs, “i need to know you’re not fucking, like. _indifferent_. about me.”

louis wants to laugh but all he can do is muffle his scream into the crook of his elbow. _he wishes he were_. when he finally does lift his head to look at harry, his vision is blurry with tears, and that’s just fine with him, really.

that way he can only see the vague outline of harry, can only hear his sob and not see it and all the ways he’s changed.

this time, when harry leans over the table to reach out for him, louis leans in, too, lets harry cup his cheeks, thumb away the tears under his eyes, and louis’s shivering with the warmth of his touch. “god, louis, i miss you so much, every day,” he whispers, and louis whimpers out a pathetic _yes_. hopes harry will get just how much he still means to him, even after all this time. after everything they’ve done to each other.

louis has the urge to touch him all over suddenly, jumps up before he knows what he’s doing. the way harry’s hands reach out to keep him in place, keep him from leaving, like out of instinct, has him flopping down in his lap in seconds. he’s clinging to harry’s neck immediately, doesn’t care about harry possibly rejecting him, just breathes in his scent, and. _settles_. settles the way only harry can make him. “forgive me, harry, forgive me, please,” he chants softly, tears still running down his face, but he’s calm now, because.

because harry holds on as tightly as louis’s holding onto him, and that. has to mean something, right? would have to mean everything, if louis were to decide.

harry leans back suddenly, though, and louis stills in fear. watches in horror as harry’s face scrunches up in pain. “what?” he whispers, “what’s wro—”

but then harry’s kissing him on his open mouth, and louis can’t help but whimper.

he has to pull back, though, the image of a certain person, a certain girl burnt into the insides of his eyelids. he clenches both his hands into harry’s hair to hold him back as he tries kissing him again, desperate. marvels at how thick and silky the ringlets are, but aches with how much he’s changed, at the same time.

“we can’t?” he murmurs brokenly. “we can’t just kiss like nothing’s wrong with that, h.”

he can feel his bottom lips wobble, the snot running down his nose, but harry’s looking at him like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened. he’s sure he doesn’t look at harry any differently, though, so that’s okay. bearable. “why? i thought you and blake are over?” he looks shocked for a second, and then as scared as he did the first time louis left him. “don’t tell me you’re, like. still a thing.”

louis can’t help but laugh — a little bitter, a little relieved. “no, haz, we’re over,” he promises quietly. “this is not — about me. it’s about you.”

harry looks nothing but confused now. louis marvels at how well he can read him still, despite how his hair has grown longer and how dark the bags under his eyes are. despite the fact that he’s lived half a year without him now and doesn’t know anything about what he’s been feeling during that time, he knows what he’s feeling right now. louis hopes that’s all that will matter from now on.

“your — girl? the girl?”

“oh,” he says, “i thought you knew.” harry frowns for a moment, looking anywhere but at louis. “i — we quit things, like. months ago?” he sighs.

louis reels back, torn between being sad for harry and happy for himself. he’s proper selfish, louis is, has always been whenever it came to harry, so it’s not really a surprise that he’s mostly relieved. “you did _what_?” tears are swimming in his eyes but he can’t help but smile.

the corners of harry’s mouth twitch. “left her,” he says softly, “for you.”

they both know exactly what he means, what he’s talking about, so louis has to wrap his arms around harry’s neck and smash his face against his cheek to press wet kisses there.

“every time i said her name, i couldn’t help but think of how much better i felt saying yours,” he adds after a second.

louis’s tears are of a different kind now. “i’m so in love with you,” he blurts out.

“yeah, same.” his smirk is so terribly attractive, louis’s stomach cramps with want. “’m in love with me, too, you —”

louis kisses him quiet, flicks his tongue against harry’s for a second. want is pooling low in his gut, relief light in his chest. “are we gonna be alright, then?” he has to ask, though, pressing his nose into harry’s hair.

“we’re gonna be alright.”

 

this time they manage.

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i am aware that louis is a lil dumb lmao
> 
> please let me know what you think <3


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